


I Keep The Party Going All Night, All Night

by saltyfandombrat



Category: Julie and The Phantoms (TV)
Genre: Abusive Parents, Analysis of All Eyes On Me, Carrie is hurting, Fame, Gen, Julie Carrie and Flynn friendship, Mentions of sexualization of a minor, Song Lyrics, The Molinas and Wilsons are friends, Trevor is a good dad, canon character death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-14
Updated: 2021-01-14
Packaged: 2021-03-18 16:35:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28746306
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saltyfandombrat/pseuds/saltyfandombrat
Summary: Carrie reflects on all the events and emotions that led her to writing All Eyes On Me.
Relationships: Bobby | Trevor Wilson & Carrie Wilson, Flynn & Carrie Wilson, Julie Molina & Carrie Wilson
Comments: 2
Kudos: 28





	I Keep The Party Going All Night, All Night

**Whenever I walk in the room, all the focus on me. The way I talk, the way I move. They all want on my team.**

Ever since Carrie was young, she knew she was different than the other girls she knew. She didn’t mean that in a condescending way, but they didn’t get stared at the way she did. They weren’t constantly bombarded with attention, no matter where they were, but she was. Growing up, she hated that feeling and luckily, her dad did his best to keep her out of the spotlight. He tried, he really did, but it was inevitable. Before she was even a teenager, she was photographed and stared at, reprimanded and scrutinized no matter what she did. 

But the attention was even stranger than that because it was so different sometimes. The same news publications that had made fun of her lisp as a child complimented her on the next page. They tried to book her for interviews with them, which Trevor had declined before they could even fully offer. The next day, there was a whole story on how she couldn’t walk in the heels she had chosen. She threw them against the wall that night and never put them on after that. At the same time, they all still wanted to be in good graces with _the Trevor Wilson’s_ daughter. 

**Ain't perfect but I can't miss, yeah.**

Another way Carrie quickly realized she was different was that she wasn’t allowed to make any mistakes when other people were watching. She had to watch what she said, what she did, what she wore, even down to what her facial expression looked like. Otherwise, she would be criticized for it. Growing up, she hated that feeling. She hated feeling like she wasn’t allowed to be a human being, she couldn’t be perfect all the time. Even with her dad assuring her she didn’t need to try and impress anyone, hearing the way people spoke about her and seeing all the articles that he hadn’t managed to hide hurt. 

As much as Carrie loved fashion, she was always nervous about her outfits. It never seemed to be the right look for everyone. They were too short or too long, they looked too childish or too grown up, no matter what she put on. More than that, she had opinions invalidated at every opportunity. If she didn’t know exactly what she was talking about, even when she did, they would mock her for her views or ideas. It got to the point where she didn’t say anything if she thought there was a chance that someone wouldn’t like it, even going so far as to hide her own passion about subjects for fear that people wouldn’t like it. 

**Don’t get me started on mentions, yeah. Some might say I sound conceited, they don't get the shine that I get. Some get jealous, they can't help it. They wish they were me, oh.**

One of the hardest parts of the fame Carrie was born into and the struggles she went through was that nobody else she knew understood it. She never felt like she could talk to people about what she was going through without sounding condescending or narcissistic. Most people weren’t used to hearing someone saying “everyone cares about everything I do” and it being genuine. But it was. It was how Carrie had to live her life. She didn’t _want_ to sound bitchy when she ranted about what she went through, but people always took it that way. 

More than that, people didn’t seem to understand that the things Carrie went through actually were struggles. Her life wasn’t perfect just because she was rich and famous, her entire life was on display all the time and she couldn’t turn that off. Not even to mention all the people who only wanted to be her friend because they thought she could make them famous too. Even people she had known and trusted for years, she worried about it with. She worried about it with the rest of Dirty Candy. With Flynn and Julie. She felt so guilty for that thought. 

But she couldn’t help how she felt, it was a genuine worry that nobody actually liked her. The feeling that one day she would turn her head and see that nobody was standing with her anymore, not when they realized that she wasn’t willing to be friends with people just to make them famous. Even when Julie sang and Flynn rapped with her, it was never the main reason why they were there, it was never because she wanted to make them famous too. They were friends, they were having fun together, she loved them more than anything. 

Even though Carrie logically knew they would never judge her for it, she still didn’t talk too much to Flynn or Julie about what was going wrong in her life. She knew they would never understand it. Nobody could fully understand it if they didn’t have to live it every day. They would tell her she was overreacting, that she was a spoiled brat, that she should be grateful for how her life was. And she was grateful, but that didn’t make it any less hard and it felt like nobody else would ever understand what she was going through. So, she stayed silent. 

**I make an entrance when I don't try, don't try. 'Cause all I see is all eyes on me.**

Making friends was hard. It always had been for Carrie growing up, but especially when she started getting a little older. Other girls she knew didn’t like the idea of having their personal lives dug into you, Carrie didn’t either, but it was something she was used to. Something she was able to handle on most days. Still, never being able to go out with friends in public places made her feel weird and left out because she couldn’t just go to the coffee shop or the mall. No matter where she was going, someone would inevitably recognize her. 

Then the picture requests and questions would come, usually about her dad or her personal life. Whoever she was with would be gossiped about later on, if they were anyone important and if they weren’t, people would question why Carrie didn’t have more influential friends. Hearing people talk about her friends like that made her feel awful and even more than that, it made her friends feel bad and she couldn’t blame them. Still, she wished that they would hang around a little bit longer, but most left her after the first time. All except Julie and Flynn. 

**I only lead, I never follow, follow. I never open 'cause it's my show, my show.**

Carrie had been singing and dancing her entire life. They had home videos of her and Julie singing Dancing Queen in the living room of the Molina’s house while her parents and Trevor laughed in the background. She had memories of being fourteen and learning You’re The One That I Want with Flynn. Her dad had even taken them shopping to buy outfits for their rendition of Grease. All in all, Carrie loved performing, she loved taking that stage and showing off. She felt as though she was born for the stage, it felt like performing was just in her blood, and not just because of who she was related to either. 

Which was why Trevor was surprised when he asked if she wanted to open for one of his shows sometime and she had refused, getting angry about it even. But she wasn’t an opening act for anyone. She wanted to be the center of attention when she was on stage, she wanted people to feel like she had earned her place there. She couldn’t do that if people thought she only made it because it was her dad. Even with that decision, people still thought he was the reason she was getting as far as she was in the industry. And eventually, a part of her started feeling like they were right. Maybe she didn’t deserve it. 

**They know my face, they know my name. Reputation on lock. It's not my fault I got the fame. Ain't my fault it won't stop, yeah.  
**

Ever since Carrie had began performing, she had heard the comparisons between her and Trevor. They compared their sounds, which would typically be fine, she knew they didn’t share many similarities in their music. She had a totally different style in sound, lyrics, and especially in the looks they went for. Dirty Candy had a lot of bright colors, had a very Korean pop style to them, they had a lot of confidence. Trevor went for the more traditional rocker style, he still had a very ‘90s vibe to him, and had confidence in a different way when he was on stage. Honestly, she loved the stark contrasts between them. 

Apparently, other people didn’t appreciate it so much. She supposed it made sense when people who liked her dad’s music expected hers to be the same and it wasn’t. But why should she be expected to conform her style to fit his just because people couldn’t separate the two? What made it even worse was she knew people were upset that she was constantly connected with her dad’s music and were mad about it because she thought her fame came from him. In a way, it did, but how could her fans be his when they were so different? People were upset because her music wasn’t like her dad’s and yet people told her that her music was only good _because_ of her dad. She couldn’t win. 

It was tiring beyond belief and it wasn’t even like she asked for that. Could she just snap her fingers and make people forget who her dad was? Absolutely not, yet she was attacked for not being able to do anything about that. Even as she fought to make them more different, to show the contrast between what her dad did and what she was doing. It never seemed to be enough for other people. There were no good options, so instead, she tried to focus on making sure her music was something she could be proud of. Something that she didn’t need other people to validate because they wouldn’t do that. 

Even worse was the standards she was held up to when it came to her music. Because she was Trevor’s daughter, because she had so much access to different resources, people expected her to be better than other people. Her costumes had to be better, her shows had to be flashier and more elaborate, her songs had to be flawless, the lyrics always had to hit just right. She remembered the first time one of the girls were off beat during a show and she was bombarded with mockery for it. She was sure she had never cried that hard before and she wouldn’t stop blaming herself for what happened. 

People were right, she should be better than that. She should have made sure all of her girls had every note and every movement down perfectly before they went on stage. Trevor had never messed up on stage like that. The next time they performed, she made absolutely sure that everything was perfect and ensured she would never drop the ball like that again. It was beyond stressful to have to deal with, but when everyone was watching and expecting more from her, she couldn’t let them down. Performances were what she was supposed to be good at, the thing that was setting her apart from everyone else, she wouldn’t know what to do with herself if people didn’t appreciate them. 

**When I grow up, I wanna be me, be me. I'm my own goals, just talking honestly.**

Carrie knew how lucky she was to be in the position she had, she had heard every thing she was supposed to be thankful for a million times. And she was grateful, don’t get her wrong, but it always felt bittersweet. She was exactly where she wanted to be, but it never felt like it was her victory. Not like her dad, he had earned his place in the music business, she hadn’t. She never had to claw her way to the top, Trevor could have gotten her anything and into anywhere she wanted. She loved the power of being able to make one phone call and play on any stage she wanted to, but it wasn’t her power. 

She felt like her happiness was ripped away from her in that regard. By all rights, she was living her dream, but without any of the hard work that she wanted to be into it. It didn’t feel the same when she knew she didn’t do anything to deserve it. At some point, she hoped she would be able to separate herself from her dad’s fame and then she would truly be where she wanted to be. Dirty Candy would get super popular and maybe some day people would stop seeing her as Trevor Wilson’s daughter, and start seeing her as Carrie. Then, only then, she would be able to truly feel like her life was right where she wanted it to be. 

**Must have won the lottery!**

Carrie knew she was extremely lucky to be born into such a good life. She had a dad who could and would give her anything she wanted, all the money she could ask for, and they did have a large influence. Trevor could get her into any venue, onto any stage, enrolled in any school. People told her all the time how lucky she was and how grateful she should be that she lived such a good life. But she never really understood why she had to be even more grateful than anyone else. She knew she had a good life and she appreciated it, she understood she had it better than most, but none of that was her doing. 

People acted like she should be on her knees thanking everyone in her life who had made this possible for her and that just wasn’t something she was going to do. It helped that Trevor had never guilted her into “acting grateful” or any of the nonsense she heard other people saying. He had chosen to have a child, even if it hadn’t been planned, and he chose to go into the career he did. None of those were choices Carrie made, she hadn’t been in control of how her life turned out in that regard. But she did fight for a lot in her life. Trevor wouldn’t have just given her a free ride in regards to her music, she wouldn’t have let him either. 

She didn’t understand why people couldn’t understand why she didn’t deserve all that she had gotten. There was no need for her to be grateful when she had put everything she had into getting herself to where she was. The countless hours she put into writing her music, the time and effort she put into learning her dances, into teaching the girls the dances. Yet everyone told her she should be thankful for her dad, rather than admitting that she had done a good job and she deserved everything she had. When she was younger, that would have bothered her and it still did, but now it made her fight even harder to prove them wrong. 

**Ain't no one as hot as me!**

The headline had stuck out to Carrie like a sore thumb as soon as her eyes fell on it: _Carrie Wilson, The Hottest Woman In Hollywood Today_. Being called hot wasn’t what bothered her, trends were called ‘hot’ and this was totally different than that. They had attached plenty of photos beneath it, pictures taken of her at parties, when she went to see fashion shows, when she went with her dad to important events. It highlighted various different outfits she had worn, how they were “sexy” on her and how she was so talented when it came to fashion. 

The words bounced around her mind and made her feel sick as she slammed her laptop closed. At thirteen years old, she had never been called anything close to that, but she knew what it meant. What it implied. And it was so embarrassing. Especially seeing herself with different areas of her body being pointed out specifically. She wasn’t sure how she was ever going to show her face at school again if people had seen that article, it just furthered secured her feeling of otherness even more than it was already instilled in her mind.

When her father finally arrived back home that day, Carrie was still crying in the kitchen. As she explained what was wrong, she was sure she had never seen him quite as angry as he was when the realization hit him. Even from the other room, she could hear him shouting on the phone to the people who had published the article. He demanded they take it down, yelling that she wasn’t ‘hot’, she was a child. That she wasn’t a ‘woman’ when she was thirteen years old. The article was never taken down off the website. 

**Stealing looks, it's robbery. Everywhere I go, all eyes on me.**

Carrie didn’t know anyone who had more pictures taken of them than her. She took a lot of pictures on her own, asked her friends to take pictures, had her friends take pictures. Everything from cute outfits to pets to things she just liked. She wasn’t like Mr. Molina in the slightest, she didn’t want to do it professionally, she didn’t care about getting all the right angles or the right lighting. What mattered to her was that she was taking a picture of something she liked. That was why she hated it so much when other people took her picture for her, sometimes without her even knowing. Because it wasn’t up to her what they captured or what they focused on it the pictures, it was out of her hands. 

It seemed like people only wanted to take pictures of her at the worst possible times too. The times when she didn’t look her best, when she was angry or sad out in public, but the ones that pushed her over the line were the ones that crossed every line she could draw. The ones that totally pried into her personal life and caught her when she was the most vulnerable. Those were the ones that made her never want to see another camera in her life. And people never even asked if they could take the photos, they just felt entitled to get in the way of her personal life because she was somewhat of a public figure. She would never be able to understand the mentality behind that. 

Luckily, the first pictures were ones that she couldn’t remember very well because of how young she was. But they were the most sensitive ones and even as a teenager, she couldn’t stand having to see or even think about the pathetic losers who took them of her. It was a series of two sets of photos from the time when her father was fighting for custody of her. After her mother had hit her for the first time when she was five, Trevor had walked out and sworn she would never see her daughter again if he could help it. The first set had been her and her father walking into the court house, dressed head to toe in matching outfits because she insisted they match. The second were of him carrying back down the steps after they had won the trial and he had full custody. 

Carrie was fifteen when the next photos were taken that crossed a line. It was just after Rose Molina had passed away and she had stopped seeing Julie. The entire feeling of her house was depressing after that. She had always loved Julie’s mom, Trevor had always loved Julie’s mom, and now she was gone. So was Julie. Her house was far too empty, far too quiet, it felt like all the life had been sucked out of her. Her music was no longer sparking the same joy it once, she didn’t even sing anymore, and that was when Trevor began worrying about her. Seeing the same traits in her that he had seen in himself decades before. He encouraged her to go see Dr. Crystal with him one day and she complied. 

Dr. Crystal was super nice to her. She told her grief affected everyone differently and there was no reason to feel guilty about how she felt. Carrie truly believed that Dr. Crystal would be able to help her get her life back on track and help her to stop feeling so empty inside. They planned another appointment and Carrie was smiling as she walked out with her dad, talking about how her session went and that she was glad she agreed to come with him. That was when the cameras flashed off on the other side of the parking lot and she looked up only to be met with another flash of lights, cameras capturing clear photos of her walking down the steps of a therapist’s office. They were everywhere. 

The second ones were ones she did remember because they were so recent and had sparked a big fight with Flynn. She could still remember the sounds of her old best friend’s voice, shouting at her, demanding to know why. Her friend’s mom dies, she abandons her, and yet _she’s_ the one who needs therapy? Carrie couldn’t even defend herself during that argument, she knew how ridiculous it sounded. She didn’t get to be the one who was upset by everything, Julie was the one who was hurting. After those pictures surfaced, she started feeling like maybe it was just a call for attention to be back on her instead of Julie. She never stepped back into Dr. Crystal’s office again, no matter how much her father told her it was okay to need help. 


End file.
